The Dance Of Morbid
by UnderlandSavior
Summary: This shadow haunts me it’s a tune that follows, a pose that lasts forever. It wouldn't go away. It's a dance...a dance of eternity...until the day the music stops.


As I wrote this, I tryed to stray so far away from another fiction called Faded Picture by Dead Chick Walking. I realized, that if in this story, I can only give my best into the fiction if I wrote it without limits. I'm sorry if it seems like I would be plargering Faded Picture, I am not, that story is too great to be copyed from.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot idea.

And also a thank you goes to my beta, Ares Is Awesome.

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**The Dance of Morbid**

_Dance with me on a march of death  
Come twirl all my feelings away  
Be my partner, but don't leave me again._

A tune hummed like a ghost in the dimensions of her mind. The music swayed her to sleep at night, like her own song, forever going. The melody played rhythmically in her mind. It would never stop. It rested in the back of her mind, always softly playing itself to a beat, but it made sure she recognized its presence.

She knew the dance had ended in everyone's eyes. A very picture was the only thing that kept it going in her heart. The image told about more than a moment in time. It had more to say than just mere words. It changed two lives. They had stopped being a kid almost 10 years ago. She knew that she couldn't relive the past, but the dance between them remained alive inside. Their poses lasted in her head, and she too knew it was etched into his mind. The only thing that kept the picture fresh to her was the fact that she was the keeper of it.

Underneath a pile of scrolls, and parchments, there hid a hatch, opening up to a little box carved in the ground. When she was young, she kept secret plans, and items hidden in here. Now, well, now the only object residing in the tiny space was a piece of paper.

The young woman slowly placed her hand inside, and pulled out the picture that haunted her in the past years. She was careful, while removing; it has been months since she's last seen it.

The little square image now had a slight yellow fade, rather then the color it once was. Three exact noticeable tear drops dotted the left edge. There were folds in two corners, and it was winkled to an extent. Dust covered the image so much she could only see the blurry mix of colors.

Using her hands, she restored the photo enough to see what it held. All she wanted to do was to see the image one last time. Just one last time, afterwards, she tore the image from her eyes, which now brimmed with unshed tears. She stood up to walk over to the burning cavity.

She stood by the fire, which burned with sheer forces. The fire wanted to devour any objects that happened to fell into it. It roared and trembled underneath its own madness. Fire was a monster, ready to take and destroy. Her fingers still gripped the picture with all its might. She couldn't stand how it disturbed her. The picture, meant to be a keepsake of wonders, where the fond memory would shown through. But it had only shattered her, making her that yearn she was back in that time. At that moment. With him.

Scorned by the very picture itself, she knew what she wanted to do. Her right hand held the object of reflections, as she stretched it outwards over the flames. The fire was licking out, ready to consume. The back of her hand felt the concentrated heat underneath as it slightly shook.

Luxa closed her eyes to keep the tears from falling down. Only a single teardrop managed to escape before trailing down her face and off her chin, before plummeting towards the fire. The tear devolved so quickly, she wondered if this was how her memories will be swiped from her. Fast and quick, without ever remembering the moment.

Her hand felt numb. No, it was just not her hand; her whole body was dull in comparison to what she was like in the picture years in the past. She couldn't let go… she just couldn't…

Ripping her hand free of the fire's grip, Luxa collapsed on her two feet as she now sat on the floor. She couldn't do it, she couldn't burn the picture. Even though it taunted her in so many ways, she could not bring herself to just throw the aged image into the flames.

The water poured down her cheeks slowly, steadily, as it she tried to stop it. She was hurt by this very picture. The image stabbed her in the heart each time she saw it. It completely took over her mind, making her wish she was once again the young queen, smitten by an Overlander boy. There was no way going back, she couldn't change things anymore, the picture was there to be the darkness symbol in her life. Yet, she couldn't get rid of it.

She gripped the picture harder as her eyes blurred. With her hands on both ends, she wanted to tear the picture. She couldn't turn the image into ash, but she now tried to shred the picture. Her fingers felt weak to her, but she continued to grip the picture, pulling each side in opposite directions.

The tears now flowed freely down her face, as she couldn't see what was happening. Luxa felt like crying out to anyone, just someone that would hold her tears, and hold her up. She just needed someone to find real comfort in, like the boy in the picture. The knock at her door blocked her from attempting anything else.

"Your Highness? The King asks of your assistance."

She knew that without the picture, if Gregor had just kept them both, if they didn't even take a second picture-

"Your Highness?"

"Tell him I will be there within minutes."

She would have been better off not remembering.

The servant left without another word. Her eyes traveled across the image that captured her memories. So many memories were stored away in a single piece of paper. Luxa touched the slick, weathered surface again before going over Gregor's face. His eyes, the way he smiled. How she could only relive that dance in her mind was cruel.

The picture locked the happiness inside of it for it wouldn't let it out to its beholder. The everlasting dance captured in a moment of time, frozen in place by love. It was only meant to be looked at, and not remembered.


End file.
